


Go For a Walk

by Sometimes_I_Write_Things



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Bulges and Nooks, Feral Trolls, Knotting, M/M, Size Difference
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-21
Updated: 2015-09-21
Packaged: 2018-04-22 19:47:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4848164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sometimes_I_Write_Things/pseuds/Sometimes_I_Write_Things
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You know quite well what he wants and what he intends to have from you sooner or later, but you think he would do well to learn some restraint.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Go For a Walk

**Author's Note:**

  * For [xChrononautx](https://archiveofourown.org/users/xChrononautx/gifts).



He’s at it again. You can feel him staring, vying for your attention as you pointedly ignore his efforts. That great fucking beast you call a mate has done nothing but try to keep you from your reading all night, grabbing at you and trying to herd you into corners only for you to dodge and zip yourself out of his reach with ease thanks to your psionics. Now, he has taken to sulking and/or pailing you with his eyes. You wouldn’t mind so much if it wasn’t making you feel just a bit warm under your skin. You know quite well what he wants and what he intends to have from you sooner or later, but you think he would do well to learn some restraint.

“Must you really sit there and leer at me like that? Have you no better use of your time?”

The infuriating fuck just smirks and whirrs at you, getting up from his pile of bones and shuffling over to you. He moves with slouch; his arms low and enormous hands supporting his weight as much as his legs, seeming much like a beast crawling his way over to you. When you feel his waxy painted cheek rub against yours, you snarl and shove his face away, not at all in the mood for his antics, no matter how sweet. Your book is nearing its climax and you are not going to set your book aside just because he’s rubbing up on you no matter how cloying his scent is to you at the moment. Horny fucker.

It’s not until he snarls back with his bone-rattling growl that you give him your attention, albeit begrudgingly. His attempts to intimidate you do not faze you in the least; not since you’ve learned of his tender fondness for you, but turn to blink at him with a blank expression to see what it is he wants. Seeming pleased to have your gaze on him now, he comes closer to set his hands on either side of you on the couch you’ve been lounging on, caging you in with his thick arms as he nuzzles into the crook of your neck to sniff at you. 

“Want you….” he breathes, his breath cool and tantalizing on your skin and you have to fight back the shudder that prickles at your spine at the sound of his voice. When you had first encountered your lover, you thought him to be no more than a thoughtless creature capable of only clicks and whirrs of a troll gone feral. You were pleasantly surprised to learn that he could indeed speak Alternian despite his obviously being a creature of instinct more than intellect, but he proved to have a truly brilliant mind especially when it came to the ‘wicked faith’. On more than one occasion he has kept you captive while he waxes poetic nonsense about his messiahs and the like, much to your vexation. It had become clear to you as you got to know and eventually grew to love him that he simply chose not to use his words on most occasions.

“What else is new?” you reply, vehemently ignoring the way your cheeks grow warm and your eyes take on a softer glow. Your lover rumbles softly in response, chuckling and nipping your neck in gentle reprimand as he wraps his arms around you. His actions earn a gasp from you and you can feel him grin against your neck like he’s had some sort of victory. He pulls you flush against his body and you shiver at the feel of his cool body against your warmer one. You make an attempt to bare your fangs in an effort to deter him but he doesn’t mind your weak protests in the least. He just latches onto your throat and suckles there, pulling yellow bruises to the surface with his lips and tongue. You suppose you can allow him some attention for now. Perhaps if you tend to his greed, then he’ll leave you in peace and you can finish your reading. Besides, the attention he delivers unto your neck has your nook twitching and your bulges throbbing in their sheath.

“Motherfuckin want you... “ he repeats with a possessive rumble in his chest this time, gripping you tighter against him and practically snatching you off the couch. You find yourself being maneuvered and positioned on the floor as your thinkpan reels with the thick wave of pheromones that crowd into your nostrils in what most likely is in response to your own sweet scent coming off you thanks to all his ministrations. You’re settled on your front with your lover’s weight crushing you to the floor, his round belly pressed against your back while his powerful chest pushes down on your shoulders. 

You don’t bother to fight him when you feel his claws hook into your (his) boxer shorts, your lounging garment of choice, and pulls them down off your hips and leg. It’s not for any sort of submission on your part, of course, but because it would simply be easier to just let him have his way. You sigh and press your cheek to the floor, spreading your legs and pushing your hips back against the squirming mass trapped in the ratty purple shorts he’s decided to adorn this night. 

“Get on with it then…”

The rumbling kicks up louder in his chest at that, his bulge throbbing hard against your ass before he pulls back just enough to shuck his shorts off and then press his hips tight against your ass. It’s due to a combination of pleasure and temperature difference that you gasp and shiver when his impressive bulge slips between the lips of your nook and twines with your own twin lengths. He rocks his hips and whirrs behind you while he slides the base of his bulge between your slippery folds, slicking himself with your arousal while he fucks the tight space your writhing bulges provide for him as they pulse and slap at the tapered length. You’re panting as he teases you, snarling and clicking crossly at him in order to hide the tiny whimper of need that wants to escape your squawk box. He merely chirrs at you and you can practically hear his lips pulling over his fangs into a shit eating grin. Your beloved does so love to piss you off. 

When he obliges you and finally pushes inside you, it’s swift and unforgiving; immediately filling you to the brim with his thick bulge and earning a choked groan from you. He loves to hear you, so you suppose you could allow him the privilege of your voice while he takes you so brutally. Salacious fucker knows that’s just how you like it. He pumps into you vigorously, yanking you back into his savage thrusting. You’re merely a ragdoll in his hands, gasping and yowling while he pulls you back on his bulge and you want to zap him through the skull for how much you love how roughly he handles you. Damn him.

He’s panting hard while he uses you like a fuck toy, and drooling as well if the chilly droplets you feel on your back is anything to go by. Fucking animal, he is. Your body is more than used to the brutal pailing your mate enjoys, quick to accommodate his girth and soon you find you’ve regained your senses enough to grip on him with your walls. Your highblood mate’s breath hitches and he breathes out a shaky groan, the sound making a corner of your parted lips quirk into a slight smirk. You do it again and again, fully pleased with yourself and how you can make your huge lover shake and gasp behind you. After a bit it seems the highblood has had enough with your antics, growling and shoving your hips flat to the floor and pinning them with his own hips. He huffs heavily through his nose and he starts grinding inside you, keeping himself buried to the hilt and making your breath come in tight little pants. You feel so very full and oh, do you love it but you know what it is he’s trying to do. 

He’s trying to knot you, you can feel it. Your entrance is steadily stretching even more than it already was as the base of his bulge swells, and you can’t stop yourself from trembling. You claw and scrabble at the floor, purely animal sounds leaving your lips as he fills you even more. Given how small you are compared to him, the beast of a troll doesn’t knot you very often. It leaves you incredibly sore and aching all over and you typically commandeer all his free time with your demands for him to spoil and take care of you; which he always obliges. You can be a terrible shit to him, really; but seeing as he’s going to render you immobile for a few nights, he can bear to put up with your shit for a while.

By the time his knot fully ties you to him, your walls are stretched taut. You can no longer squeeze around him with him filling you so thoroughly, your nook only able to give little pulses around his trapped bulge. He can’t thrust into you anymore, but that doesn’t stop your brutish mate from trying. He growls and grunts as he tries to push even deeper, gaining a strained whimper from you. The tip nestled in the deepest parts of your nook writhes and tickles over your insides and you can feel the chilly slime leak into you from the tip. 

You can hardly think with how thoroughly claimed you are by him. You’re beyond aroused and you don’t even recognize the soft chirping please trickling out of your mouth as your own voice. It’s too much but exactly what you want. It won’t take much more to make you spill and your lover isn’t fairing much better. You only hope he doesn’t make you clean up the mess you both are about to make on the floor.

You are just barely able to get control over your damned chirping when suddenly your mate lunges forward. Your eyes snap open wide and you choke on a gasp, your cheek dragging along the floor from the force of his movement. It’s silent for a second save for your panicked breathing, and then he chuckles. The fucker actually has the mind to chuckle while he’s trapped inside your nook and you have a mind to blast him through the wall if that action wouldn’t send you flying along with him. You clench your teeth and give a weak hiss before he does it again, shoving you with his hips and making you cry out. You can barely make out that he’s purring between moans as he starts scooting you across the floor, your own voice gone from you again as you yowl, yip, and trill. Damned beast that he is: he’s toying with you. 

Your climax slams into you unexpectedly, the pleasure that had built up and had been coiling tight in your belly suddenly snapping loose and shooting through every vein in your body. You don’t know what sounds you make but you can feel him vibrating deep and low as your poor nook attempts to clamp and convulse around him. A cold sensation spreads in your lower belly and the animal part of your thinkpan recognizes that your mate had just spilled his slurry inside you, your body moving on autopilot as you wiggle and buck back weakly in an effort to milk him of every drop. 

You register a pulling and dragging sensation in your nook as you ride your orgasm, but you’re far too intoxicated on the blinding pleasure to realize just what it was. Its not until one of your bulges gives its last pathetic spurt of geneslime that you realize that you no longer feel the comforting weight of your highblood lover’s belly pressing down on you. You blink and make a confused sort of murmur as you look back and find your shit of a mate has turned around to face away from you. You would be pleased to see him so disheveled with paint is smeared and dripping off of him and his breathing heavy if it weren’t for that damned smirk on his face. You manage a weak glare at him before you manage to catch your breath enough to speak.

 

“What are you getting up to in that shoddy thinkpan of yours?”

He bares his fangs to you in a wide grin before he crawls forward a bit on his hands and knees, dragging you along with him and making you yelp as his knot tugs on your abused entrance.

“Goin’ for a walk, motherfucker,” he purrs before he starts moving across the floor towards the nutritionblock. You squawk and hiss your fury at him as he drags you, clawing gouges into the floor that HE will be made to deal with later as it is your fault for making you behave as such. He stops now and again to push back on you, making like he’s going to sit on you as he grinds his bulge inside you. It makes you pant and drool and groan each time, and every time he stops and resumes his journey into the nutritoinblock, you start up your complaining again. 

By the time he reaches his destination, his knot has deflated somewhat. However, you’re still very much locked to your asshole of a lover given how large he is to start with. You’ve given up on complaining and resigned yourself to letting him drag you along by the nook as he goes to the thermal hull for a faygo. There’s no point in fighting, you suppose. You’re going to be locked to him for a good while yet. He takes a few swigs of that swill he calls elixir before turning to offer you what’s left in the bottle. You simply stare at the bottle with a blank expression for a few seconds before looking up to him, finding your pusher giving a little flip at the sweet and fond way he regards you. However, the fuzzy feeling that look gives you doesn’t last long. You don’t take the offered refreshment and instead flick your index finger, a crackling line of red and blue lights zipping from your fingertips and down to his nook. Your deadpan expression breaks into one of smug satisfaction at the wrigglerish squawk he makes when your psionics shock his nook. Perhaps being tied to him for the better part of your night won’t be without its entertainment.


End file.
